


How's Your Heart Rate?

by vvywern



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 05:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4047202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvywern/pseuds/vvywern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short and sweet one-shot between Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanov set a week or so after the ending of The Age of Ultron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How's Your Heart Rate?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece of writing for the MCU, so I do apologize if any characterization or general information is off.

Natasha didn’t expect to see Bruce for a long, long time. Maybe he just ran with it and forgot about her in the process. It hurts and in a way, reinforces the idea she was raised on: that love is for children. Love is a vulnerability and a large target that can cover each point of fatality on her body. It can kill her and she’s never been so afraid of such a thing -- because love is not a tangible or concrete idea. It is as stealth as she as and it can come and go as it pleases, leaving confusion behind. It’s idiotic to let love in when you know how dangerous is can be. It can carry someone to a remote island in Fiji, according to Fury.  
“Any update on Bruce?” Cap asks one day, falling into stride next to her. Natasha frowns,  
“Stark’s stealth devices seem to still be intact. We can still only guess that he’s somewhere in Fiji by now.” There isn’t a whole lot Steve Rogers can say to a response like that. It’s on neutral grounds and he can guess that Nat is wishing they could look for Bruce -- but she isn’t led by her heart and finds leadership more so in her head, where logic rests. Looking for Bruce isn’t a good idea right now. The headquarters in a discrete area of New York are in order, but it still needs work and some shaping. It’s a rough mold of what it needs to become, and finding Bruce is a low ranking on the list of priorities. He needs time to himself. He probably even wants to leave the Avengers. But no one doubts that Bruce can take care of himself.  
“You know, you can take some time off, Natasha,” Steve says after a few silent strides. “The world’s at peace. No one needs us to take down some aliens or a new world threat. We can catch our breaths for once.”  
“I don’t need time off,” Natasha replies. “If Bruce wants to come back, he’ll find his way back.” She’s more confident in that answer than she expected. Bruce will return when he wants to, if he wants to. There’s no pressuring him into considering the Avengers again -- he’s done. “It’s just part of who he is. He doesn’t want to be a public enemy again.”  
Steve nods. He knows only a little in the romance department, but he shares what little he can. “As the master of waiting… just don’t wait too long for these things. We can’t keep things hidden forever. If you freeze things to preserve them, it’ll just thaw.”  
Natasha smiles a bit; a small pull at the corners of her dark lips. “Especially not you.”  
Steve laughs good heartedly, a sound as wonderful as a crackling fire in a hearth. “Especially not me,” he agrees.  
A small device in her belt rings. It’s not used in emergencies, but a signal from it still means something serious is happening. “Something down at the base,” Natasha mutters as she looks at the small screen. Steve’s is going off, too. She tucks the electronic back into a pocket of her belt, taking stride after Steve towards the stairs.  
The building is fairly empty at this time of night. In a less-densely populated area of New York, the stars are perfectly clear in the dark skies. It’s a new moon -- the large source of light doesn’t show. There is no one to push aside as they sprint through, rushing down flights of stairs and secretly built hallways and passages for situations like this.  
Steve practically barrels through the door to the base. Natasha slips in after him, with an edge of grace. Where they are now is a hugely secured section of headquarters -- primarily, she only sees Fury in here with top workers. The room is lit up with glowing screens, courtesy of Stark. The entirety of the HQ is modernized with his technology -- a blessing to all but Steve, who still struggles with it. “What’s going on?” He asks, the slightest bit out of breath. His hands, she notices, are in fists.  
“I dismantled the stealth devices on Barton,” Tony says, taking a few blueberries and popping them into his mouth. “We’re going to get him. He’s been on the news once now -- as the Hulk. Gotta pop a lid on him.”  
“When are we leaving--”  
“You shouldn’t go,” Natasha says. “We shouldn’t go. He left for a reason. Just let him be, we’re prodding him with sticks if we do this.”  
“Really?” Tony asks. “‘Cause I thought you’d be all for this.”  
“I’m not--”  
“He’s getting out of control again, Romanoff. Even if he doesn’t want to be an Avenger, he’s under our protection now. And so is civilization. If he’s causing havoc, intentional or not, it’s our duty to get him out of there and keep him contained.”  
“He’s a monster. Society doesn’t like wild animals running around,” Tony starts. Perhaps he means no harm, but he’s stepped over a line.  
“Tony, not the time--” Steve mutters.  
“You can go and get Bruce, but I’m not going.” She stares at Tony with a calm fury, and he averts his gaze. “He won’t come back with you guys. And we have other priorities. Not to mention that without Clint or Thor, he’s a force to be reckoned with.” Fury doesn’t look pleased. “I’ll stay here with Wanda.”  
None of the arguments that follow can persuade her otherwise.

********

“So you’re saying he didn’t leave because he didn’t want to be an Avenger?” Tony asks from the captain’s seat.  
“That’s what Natasha keeps saying. I think she believes it, too. But the way Bruce acts when Natasha is involved -- he wouldn’t leave the one thing that keeps them in contact,” Steve answers. It’s just the two of them on the jet to Fiji. They’re a few hours away from where Bruce is, flying through the early clouds of dawn. Steve is a bit edgy to be alone, in the same small and contained space, with Tony. Their personalities rarely seem to not clash.  
“So what’s his point in leaving?”  
It’s a miracle Pepper could ever work with a mind so emotionally inept. “He doesn’t want to endanger Natasha. She’s still wary of the Hulk and Bruce knows. I think her fear is making him scared, too.”  
“J.A.R.V.I.S., what do you think?” Tony asks.  
“I am a program,” the steady voice of J.A.R.V.I.S. replies. “I do not have knowledge on this type of emotion.”  
“Go figures. J.A.R.V.I.S.. profile Bruce Banner.”  
J.A.R.V.I.S. profiles Bruce, and Tony envies the way that Steve can read emotions so easily. He’s right -- Bruce left to keep Natasha safe.  
Maybe that’s what he should have done with Pepper, before she had the chance to leave. Before she had the chance to ever want to leave.

********

The days that Steve and Tony are gone are not the worst days of Natasha’s life, but they drag on with sluggish paces. The only thing she has really accomplished since their plane took off is getting to know Wanda Maximoff better. She was pleased to see that Wanda could throw a beautiful punch and she was easy to work with. While Natasha was challenged when sparring her to have to face magic, a force she did not face in an every-day basis, Wanda had to face off against one of the most sinuous and deadly assassins. They made a good match for each other -- when working in teams, they were fluid in their coordination and attacks.  
She was enjoying herself too much when she got a buzz in her pocket. “Gotta go,” she says with a small smile playing at her lips.  
“Do you have to train other recruits too?” Wanda asks, in her thick accent.  
“Yeah,” Nat says with a sigh. “It’s not so bad. I’d rather train them than go back to fighting you.” With a wave of farewell, a gesture of friendliness that not many receive from her, the Black Widow leaves the room.  
Walking to the area for training recruits, something is different. It’s more of a sixth sense than something she knows for sure, but her sixth sense is fairly accurate. “I guess I’m not going to train them today,” she says under her breath. She changes her course of direction, heading to the opposite side of the building.  
“Romanoff, we’ve got something for you down in the quarantine.” It’s Tony, over the system of two-way radios.  
Her direction stays the same -- she knew it. Her heart speeds up only a little when her suspicion is confirmed. It’s a long walk to her destination, no matter how much she lengthens her strides. She can barely hold back from breaking out into at least a mediocrely paced jog. She admits that she’s more nervous than she wishes she was when she reaches the door -- it’s big, made of incredibly dense metals and high security. It scans her fingerprint and DNA before allowing her inside. She doesn’t know if she’s ready when the door opens, but she’s got to be.  
In a large cylinder container, made specifically for him, is Bruce. His back is to her as he sits on the floor, in dirty clothes. From what she can see, he’s unkempt and could use a shower… or two. He doesn’t seem to know that she’s entered the room. The door quietly slides shut behind her, sealing silently. She collects her breath and cuts off her nerves.  
“Hey, big guy. Sun’s getting real low.”  
The muscles over his back tense and then relax. It’s his lullaby; their lullaby. “Natasha.” Bruce sounds tired and wary, like he wants to afford caution but he can’t, because his urge to have Natasha is just as dominant as his urge to stay away from her and protect her; because he is a monster but she doesn’t think so; because people say no one will love you until you love yourself, but god, oh god, Natasha can make him feel like he has never hated himself.  
And yet, he is scared to turn around in the fear of the idea that maybe she isn’t happy to see him.  
“I’m going to open your containment,” she says carefully, her hand resting over the controls. She doesn’t fear the Hulk as much as she once did, but he is still unpredictable and a hair or two out of Bruce’s reach. He’s getting better but Natasha knows that it’s a careful path she’s treading on. It’s terribly dangerous and she’s scared more than she’s ever been -- not that she’ll let anyone know. There has never been a fear she has not overcome. She exhales slowly, keeping it steady. Bruce doesn’t moved from his spot and she didn’t expect him to. “How’s your heart rate?” Her voice nearly trembles, scared that The Other Guy is just lurking and waiting for a chance to attack.  
“Steady,” he replies.  
Natasha enters the large space, designed to contain the Hulk should he come out. She can dart out and close it in seconds, safe and sound. She’ll be fine. She trusts the cage and she trusts Bruce. No big deal.  
“How was Fiji?” She asks, monitoring her every word and his every shift. She slowly lowers herself down next to him, about a yard between them. In his lap, Bruce is cleaning his glasses slowly and carefully in his shirt. “Here,” she offers, holding out her hand. “I would imagine those clothes don’t clean too nicely.”  
“No,” Bruce agrees, “they don’t.” He delicately hands her his glasses. Natasha takes them with a shaking hand, anxious for the contact it takes to lift them from Bruce’s hand. Her fingertips brush his palms as she pulls away. Neither of them initiate anything more. She cleans the dirty lenses of his glasses on her dark shirt, briefly wondering what his vision is. It’s a small detail she just wants to know, for the sake of knowing it. 20/30? 20/40?  
“I’m sure getting you new glasses could be arranged,” she begins, turning to give them back to Bruce only to find that he’s intently watching her, with a wistful look blossoming in his eyes.  
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, reaching for his glasses without further explanation. She pulls them out of reach with a frown.  
“For what?” Bruce sighs.  
“For flying to Fiji.” He sounds sincere and devastated, like it was a huge mistake. “I guess I just… ran with it, and didn’t think about bringing you.” Natasha’s lips quirk up a little, causing Bruce to give her an inquisitive look.  
“It is pretty cruel to go on vacation without me,” she admits with dry humor, averting her gaze when Bruce chuckles in the slightest, his wide-shouldered frame moving with the smallest hint of amusement. “I get it, though. You don’t want to be an Avenger and you don’t want the world to see Hulk anymore --”  
“You think that’s why I flew to Fiji?” Bruce asks, cutting her short.  
“Yes, that’s what I figured...” Natasha says firmly, faltering when she looks up at Bruce. He looks at her with a deep frown creasing his forehead and crinkling his eyes.  
“Natasha, Natasha…” He puts his face in his hands for a few seconds before sliding his hands back through his hair. “I went to Fiji because I wanted to protect you.” She purses her lips, undoubtedly surprised by how off she was in her guessing. She’s not used to being wrong.. “The chances of The Other Guy hurting you -- of me hurting you, if you will -- is not so slim. Science can’t find the outcomes of what could happen and I didn’t want to take any risks. Not with you.”  
“Is that still how it is?” She asks, fidgeting with the glasses she holds between her fingers.  
“No.”  
Natasha nods. Some sort of built up pressure leaves her chest, like she’s swimming towards the surface of deep water and out of murky depths that pressed around her. “So what’s the plan? We just run with it?”  
“Yeah. We just run with it,” Bruce repeats back, the corners of his lips pulled up. The corners of his eyes crinkle with the chance of a smile. Natasha even grins a little, too.  
“Just not to Fiji this time, Big Guy.”  
“Not to Fiji,” he agrees, watching Natasha through clearer vision as she puts his glasses back on.  
“How’s your heart rate?” She asks again, bringing her hand down from his glasses. Bruce catches her smaller hand in his.  
“Wild.”


End file.
